Guest of Honor

“I’m very sorry to announce that David Tennant has had to cancel his appearance at the last moment.” The organizer of the convention announces. The crowd of ravenous fanboys and girls all boo and scream at this, the latest among a long stream of canceled appearances. “But,” he continues, “We still have Colin Baker!”, he says, pointing across the room. Colin puts down his pie and gleefully waves back at him. The specific convention doesn’t matter, every Whocon in the United States is the same, none of the big names actually showing up, just the most “Who?” of Who. And Colin. Always Colin.
	Something was going to be different about this con, however. “This Sucks!” one fan exclaims, “None of the real Doctor Whos are even gonna be here!” One of the other fans angrily turns towards him, “Um, actually,” he chimes in, “His name is just ‘The Doctor’!”. The Room suddenly breaks apart into two factions, Doctors, and Doctor Whos as a giant shit show erupts. Convention-goers bludgeoning each other with sonic screwdrivers, choking each other with Tom Baker scarves, exactly what you would expect from the average Doctor Who convention.
	Meanwhile, a skinny space-Scott in a brown suit and his companion, a redheaded woman in a leather jacket stand inside of their police box, floating around on the other side of the universe. Donna stands in front of the console, the Doctor right next to her, trying to teach her how to fly the TARDIS again. The Doctor is very impressed by how well she’s doing, especially for a human. “Yes, yes, brilliant!” He praises her, “Now just pull that lever there and we’ll be-”, he’s abruptly cut off as the TARDIS begins to go crazy, the centerpiece moving up and down as several alarms go off.
	Donna steps away from the console, scared as the Doctor pushes her aside, “What did I do Doctor?” she worriedly asks.
	The Doctor pulls the monitor over to him, “What?” he says to no one in particular after he looks at the screen. He mashes buttons on the console, unable to stop the TARDIS from moving, “What? What”? He repeats. “Whatever happened, the TARDIS is locking on to the point in the universe with the highest concentration of autism in the entire universe, and I can’t stop it!”
	Back on Earth, the fighting abruptly ends as everyone’s attention is turned towards the center stage, where they all hear a noise they’ve waited their entire lives to hear. Wind blows from the stage, knocking the fez off of a man in the front row, as a blue box appears out of thin air. The box opens, and out walks the Doctor and Donna. “Where are we, Doctor?” she asks him.
	“I don’t know, but be careful, Donna,” He warns her, “I can feel the autism in the air, leaching into the ground.” After comprehending what has just happened, the crowd erupts into thunderous applause. The Doctor looks around, confused, but bows to them anyway, never one to turn down a standing ovation.
	“You did show up David!” one fan excitedly yells at the Doctor.
	“I’m sorry? Was I expected here?” he turns around to Donna, who just shrugs at him, as in the dark as he is. The Doctor turns around, “And who’s David?” he asks. The crowd all laugh at this, loving how devoted they think he is to his character. The Doctor looks around at the crowd, noticing a large number of the people there are dressed like himself, and a spattering of his earlier regenerations as well. He suddenly realises exactly what’s going on here. “Ohhh, this isn’t…” he looks up, noticing a giant poster of himself standing in front of his TARDIS hung up over the entrance to the room. “Well, you LINDA lot have certainly gotten more organized since I saw you last.”
	They all laugh even more at this, a large, sweaty gentleman standing in the back corner dressed as an Abzorbaloff laughs especially hard at this. “What is this, some kind of cult devoted to you, Doctor?” Donna asks. This would seem silly to the Doctor, if the majority of the audience had not gotten down on their knees and began to bow down to the man they thought was David Tennant.
	“Oh, no, no, get up, get up.” The Doctors says, motioning for them to stand up. “I’ve seen people who were… fans of me,” he cringes at this, “But an entire convention?”
	While all of this was happening, the organizer of the convention had been watching in disbelief. He thought his convention was ruined, so he won’t miss this opportunity to make a quick buck. He runs up to the Doctor and Donna and pushes them to a table. He grabs a microphone from its stand, “David Tennant and Catherine Tate will now be answering questions, signing autographs, and posing for pictures, only 50 dollars a person!”
	And so Donna and the Doctor sat there for several hours, every few minutes some new, overweight fanboy or girl walked out of the disorganized mess they called a line, and awkwardly pose for a picture with them. The organizer stood off to the side, counting all the money he’s making, while the Doctor sat, contemplating his life. There were a few moments like this, where he regretted fleeing Gallifrey, all those years ago. He wanted to see the universe, and what did he get? He’s saved countless planets, countless times, and all he gets in reward are sweaty nerds who don’t even truly appreciate him. They probably all just like him because of how his current regeneration looks. He looks over at the security guard stationed at his table, and tries to get his attention. “I’m sorry, could I see your gun for a moment please?”
	The guard can’t believe that he’s actually talking to him, “O-of course,” he stutters, unbuttoning his holster, “Anything for you, Mr. Tennant!”
	The Doctor grabs the pistol from him, as the crowd looks on in disbelief. “But you’re the man who never would!” one fan yells out at him.
	He could never have imagined himself getting to this point, and he’s suddenly very glad that Barbera and Chesterton aren’t there to see this. “Allons-y,” he whispers to himself as he takes the safety off of the pistol. Tears begin to roll down his cheeks as he thinks back to all the moments that brought him to this point. Every Chumbley, every Abzorbaloff, every regeneration and retcon. “I want to go!” he lets out as his final words, pulling the trigger.